


us against the world

by ifthebookdoesntsell



Series: what the flames can build (aka chefs au) [2]
Category: The Prom (2020), The Prom - Sklar/Beguelin/Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Chefs, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Fluff, This is so soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:53:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29294721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifthebookdoesntsell/pseuds/ifthebookdoesntsell
Summary: Emma wishes she could say every moment with Alyssa was like being in a movie, but that simply isn’t true. It’s like a book.Because God, it’s so much better.Alyssa is like perfect summer rain, like the kitchen after something has been cooked to perfection or like running a full last service.She’s adrenaline and a good night’s sleep and sugar sticky love all at once.It’s one o’clock in the morning.Emma can’t remember a time she’s ever felt more awake, more alive.(Or, the softness directly following opening the restaurant.)
Relationships: Alyssa Greene/Emma Nolan
Series: what the flames can build (aka chefs au) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2151474
Comments: 12
Kudos: 61





	us against the world

**Author's Note:**

> hey y'all! i'm back again with another little something. this is just a short little one-shot because i was thinking about greenelan this morning, and it all came together in just a few hours. 
> 
> if you haven't read [more than words can say](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29009451/chapters/71198805), this can still... pretty much standalone, but there are several things that won't totally make sense, so i very much recommend you read that before you read this. 
> 
> as always, i hope you enjoy!

Emma wishes she could say every moment with Alyssa was like being in a movie, but that simply isn’t true. It’s like a book. 

Because God, it’s so much better. 

Alyssa is like perfect summer rain, like the kitchen after something has been cooked to perfection or like running a full last service. 

She’s adrenaline and a good night’s sleep and sugar sticky love all at once. 

It’s one o’clock in the morning. 

Emma can’t remember a time she’s ever felt more awake, more alive. 

“I love you,” she whispers, unsure what else to say, unsure what else even matters in this moment. 

“I love you too,” Alyssa replies, so simple, so sure. She squeezes Emma’s hand. “You ready to get going?” 

Emma nods, surveying the dining room once more. By now, of course, everybody’s left, but she can’t get out of her head the sight of every table full, looking through the order window and seeing a last couple at one of the corner tables, holding hands. 

“Happy Opening Night,” Alyssa tells her softly. 

“Happy Opening Night,” Emma answers, equally as gentle before she smiles. “Today was a real good day.” 

“I did say every day would be better than the one before, didn’t I?” Alyssa turns to her, taking her other hand, too, and pulling her a little closer. 

“You did,” Emma concedes. “And you were right.” 

“Was I, now?” Alyssa teases, eyes alight with mischief, with adoration. 

“You were,” her girlfriend replies. “Besides, I’m not an idiot. What did Hawkins say?  _ Happy girl, happy world?”  _

Alyssa nods with a laugh. She reaches up onto her toes, brushing their noses together. “And for the record, I’m very happy right now.” 

“Then my world is happy,” Emma says back, so effortlessly that it makes Alyssa blush before she finally presses forward for a kiss. 

Alyssa hums, pulling Emma closer for one moment, deepening the kiss before she retreats softly. “We should head home.” 

“Home?” Emma doesn’t want to overstep, but she thinks her girlfriend might mean— 

Alyssa reddens further. “I mean… I mean we should head back to my place?” 

“Home,” Emma repeats. “I like it.” 

“You do?” Alyssa asks. 

Emma nods. She grabs Alyssa’s hand. “I’ll drive.” 

Alyssa smiles softly. “Okay.” 

***

When they finally walk through the door, Emma flops onto the couch without second thought. 

Alyssa smiles at the gesture, pulling off her shoes and doing the same, cuddling against her side. 

“I love you,” Emma whispers, meeting her eyes, hazel reflecting a joy that makes Alyssa’s heart trip over itself. 

“I love you too.” Alyssa shifts so that they’re closer, noses almost touching. 

There’s a peace to the silence, a difficult thing to fathom for both women who have always found there’s a sort of violence about quiet, but there’s a calm that’s descended over them in this moment. 

Alyssa allows herself to study Emma, to find further comfort in the familiarity of her features, in the way she can grab Emma’s hand, touch that which her younger self thought was untouchable for so long. 

She traces the lines on her palm with her thumb, smiling when she feels Emma shiver beside her, when there’s suddenly fingers beneath her chin, turning her face softly. 

“What?” she asks softly, aware of how bright the moon is outside, aware of how right now, sat beside Emma, it feels as though the world has stopped, feels as though they’re perched at the very edge of forever. 

In answer, she finds soft lips on hers, finds the world turning back, even, as her mind wanders to how easy this all is, how  _ perfect.  _

Emma is constant. Emma is familiar. Emma is the scariest part of her life. 

Not because Emma is hard or difficult to love. 

Rather, the opposite. 

Emma Nolan is the easiest person to love in the whole world, and Alyssa finds that it’s the most absolutely terrifying thing about her. 

Alyssa loves Emma like she’s never loved anybody— not even herself. She loves Emma with an abandon, with an understanding that falls between them with every kiss, with every touch. 

Alyssa has loved Emma since before she knew how to properly define it, has loved her since the fourth grade when Emma told her that her grandmother had made cookies and told her to bring extra to class, had pushed the tupperware over for her to take one with a toothy grin. 

Alyssa has loved Emma since seventh grade, since the first time she was ever invited to Gran and Papa’s house, since she was first taught to make pasta from scratch.

She’s loved her in the soft moments following a meal, in the gentle quiet of lying beside each other after a movie and too much of Papa’s homemade apple turnovers, in the early morning when the scent of cinnamon already wafted through the house like the perfect wakeup call. 

When Emma was hurting, Alyssa stayed, held her tight on nights where both of them cried for the things they’d lost, ordered them takeout when the thought of cooking became a burden for the first time in their lives. 

And when they kissed for the first time, just like this, wrapped in each other, intoxicated by each other’s breath, lost in the gentleness of each touch, each press of their lips, Alyssa had fallen so recklessly, so dangerously, so painfully and also wonderfully that she knew she’d never recover. 

Then came the years of waiting, of watching, of fear, of prematurely mourning a love that could have been, but then— 

But then Emma had kissed her, hands filled with flour and eyes full of adoration. 

She had kissed her. 

And then she did it again. 

And again. 

And again. 

Emma had kissed her hungry, deep, like she was looking to pawn off every bit of sweetness on her lips, like she was trying to discover, for sure, what Alyssa tasted like, too. For once, the food went ruined, went untended, as Alyssa had pulled her close, had smiled so hard it was a wonder there were any sort of shadows in the room. 

Alyssa had kissed back, had forced Emma nearer just as she does now, had slipped her tongue into it without thought, heat rushing through her. 

In that moment, she had remembered Emma telling her, once, when they’d gone on a rollercoaster to hold onto her tight if she got scared. 

In this moment, she can’t help but grin as the memory suddenly hits her so quick in the chest when she swings herself into her girlfriend’s lap, grabs tight to her shoulder as she gets comfortable. 

She grips Emma’s hips between her thighs, wraps both her arms around her neck quickly. 

_ Hold onto me if you get scared,  _ Emma had said. 

Alyssa does just that, kisses Emma harder, fearful that this could all slip through her fingers if she doesn’t grasp it tighter. 

She holds on because of just how safe she feels, because of just how  _ wanted,  _ how  _ loved _ she feels. 

She trembles slightly. Emma’s arms tighten around her waist. 

“It’s okay,” Emma mumbles against her lips. “I’ve got you.” 

Alyssa nods, pressing closer for another kiss, throat suddenly tight. She threads her fingers through Emma’s hair, fills her lungs with everything that  _ is _ Emma, banishes the quiet taunting of a voice that promises heartbreak. 

“Hey,” Emma whispers. “Hey. It’s you and me, okay?” 

“You and me  _ what?”  _ Alyssa asks softly, pulling back slightly to meet Emma’s eyes. 

“Against the world, baby,” Emma tells her, so soft, so sure before she amends: “Against the universe.” 

“That’s a tall order,” her girlfriend laughs, dark eyes searching her face. 

“Good thing I have the fastest service in all of Indiana, then,” Emma replies, smiling. 

“Nerd.” Alyssa rolls her eyes affectionately. 

“Your nerd though, right?” Emma’s grin has only grown wider. 

“Of course.” Alyssa practically whispers the words into her mouth before she kisses her again. 

Emma hums in reply, quiet satisfaction in it, kissing back with practiced ease. “I love you,” she breathes. 

“I love you too, Em.”

**Author's Note:**

> so. what did you think? it's just a cute little thing i cooked up (heh, cooked. cooking pun, sorry-), but i hope that you enjoyed! if you did, consider dropping me a comment/kudo down below to tell me you enjoyed! it would make me smile. 
> 
> as always, you can find me on tumblr to talk about greenelan/food/gayness @ifthebookdoesntsell. 
> 
> be safe x


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